


Vents Belong on the Ocean Floor, Not The Floor of the Grocery Store

by BronzedMe



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Family, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzedMe/pseuds/BronzedMe
Summary: 'Wade has a shopping list, Schizophrenia, Chronic Pain, a daughter, and a family. He can do this.'
A vent fic in the aftermath of Spiderman/Deadpool #9, and all of the other Ableist decisions Marvel has made in regards to Wade. I have both Psychosis and Chronic Pain, but if something is wrong w/ my portrayal, let me know.





	

Tortillas, pineapple, milk, and Snackables.

It shouldn't be too hard a shopping list, no matter how bad the last month has been, Wade reason. There's just the little matter of the Big C leaving him bedridden. Sure, he might have offed himself once or twice (eight times), and depression, the boxes, and other hallucinations might be running rampant, but he can handle this chore all alone.

_“Don't forget we have Ellie with us, Champ.”_ The white box pops up, it's rounded edges somehow managing to look accusatory.

**“Preston’s been dealing with three of these snot nosed brats while we did jack shit. We owe Emily big time.”**

Wade, as casually as possible, waves a hand through the thick, sarcastic lines of the yellow box to dissipate it on his way to grab the milk from the freezer. No one, not even himself gets to call Ellie, Jeff, and Terry brats. As his hand drifts back to his side, straining not to turn into a fist, he feels a warm hand slide into his.

“Have you used the magic words today?” Ellie asks, peering up at him.

Both boxes attempt to spell put the sound of a raspberry, meaning a very familiar argument is about to headline in his head. Can’t even get groceries without his brain screaming at him. But Ellie’s hand is in his left, and Preston’s grocery list is in his right. Magic, and a miracle seems so much closer to possible than it ever did.

“Not today. Wanna help me fix that?” He asks, throwing his daughter the strongest looking smile he can. He feels like it falls flat, just missing it’s mark, but Ellie’s loving hand and warm gaze are as sturdy as ever.

“Yeah! Boxes no boxing, boxes no boxing!” She chants, waving the hand in his excitedly. Wade repeats it after her, squeezing her hand six times after each (has to be six, it won’t work if not). He loses himself in memories of watching Dora with Ellie, the times the words worked. A picnic without Preston, when he wasn’t sure of where he stood with Shane. A school play, with Jeff and Ellie as a the Mayor and a tree, respectively. A mission debrief at S.H.I.E.L.D with Preston that turned accusatory. Meeting Ellie’s swim coach for the first time.The panic rises in his throat, as it always does, before he remembers how he (magically) wasn’t left alone in those situations. A small hand in his, or a hand on his shoulder, and everything turned out OK. Wade huffs a strangled laugh as he wades through the recent memories of happiness and support he never thought he’d have.

_“He he, ‘wades’, get it?”_

**“Not to follow the we will meet again trope too closely to the letter, but this is a temporary measure, and a useless one at that. We’ve always been here, Wade, since day one in your fucked up life, and we’ll... always.... .... come… …. …. back…. …. …. ….”**

The boxes and their genre savvy threats wilt like limp lettuce around the edges, and don’t follow Wade as Ellie, putting up with his shit like always, calmly leads him to the bakery. Brain processing slowly, it takes some time for him to realize how far she’s lead him in his internal struggle.

“Sorry, babygirl, didn’t realize I was spacing out.” Wade sighs dejectedly.

“It’s okay Daddy! My therapist, the new one, said that that’s normal, and I can help by making sure you’re safe when you’re off in space.” Ellie looks up at him as they stop at the tortillas, making their selection. 

“That NAMI class Aunt Emily has been taking with me helps too, even if it’s hard. So you shouldn’t feel bad, Daddy. I want to help you.” 

“I still can’t believe you’d do all that for me. I’m not worth all that.” Wade chuckles sadly, turning to lead toward the fruits and vegetable section.

“No!” Ellie stamps her feet, jerking his hand down as she stomps her point into the ground.

“You are, and don’t say that you aren’t!”

Ignoring the eyes he feels burning into him, Wade crouches down, groaning as the journey to Ellie’s eye level aggravates his already sore bones, muscles, and tendons.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t like it when I talk like that. I just have been struggling with it for so long, I can’t just turn it off, you know?”

“I know that.” Ellie says tiredly, the fight seemingly drained out of her. “But you can’t decide things like whether or not you’re worth trying to be around for me. You can’t leave me, Daddy.”

Any argument Wade may have been building in his mind seems to fall to the wayside as he listens to his daughter talk. His wonderful, patient, precious daughter, who sees something good in him. Who wants to have a relationship with him. A totally manly tear falls down his cheek, followed by it’s totally manly brethren, as he gathers Ellie in a hug.

“I love you so much, Ellie. And I promise, I won’t make that choice for you, and I won’t leave you, okay?”

Ellie squeezes him just as tightly. It’s been a long week for all of them, Ellie include, Wade thinks. She might just need this as much as he does. Wade pulls away reluctantly, pausing to dry Ellie’s eyes. It’s so unbearable to see her cry, especially knowing he caused it.

“Now that we’ve had our totally private breakdown in the bakery section, what do you say to finishing this list, and then going home to see if the Preston family wants to have a Recovery Movie Marathon?”

“I say I’ll race you to the checkout!” Ellie screeches, and peels out, making a break for the next item on their list.

“Cheating, attagirl!” Wade whoops, pushing disapproving patrons out of his way as he makes a break for the snack sections.

They race around the grocery store, calling out to each other periodically, before barreling towards the first empty register from opposite directions.They ignore the intimidated cashier in favor of a playful argument about who won, which they continue all the way to the parking lot, car, and finally, to their home. Wade’s heart soars even higher at Emily’s bright, but tired smile that greets them, and the quiet but unshakable way she says she knew she could count on them. Wade hears Ellie excitedly telling Jeff and Terry about the great race they had, and Preston points him towards the TV to pick out movies so she can talk to Shane about snacks, Wade thinks he’ll fight the boxes as often as he has to to be here.

**Author's Note:**

> So Spiderman/Deadpool #9 was infuriating to me, as a disabled Deadpool fan. I've long been ignoring Marvel canon for Deadpool (did you know he's never had a disabled writer?), but this was about as bad as when they erased his Schizophrenia. Reading Spiderman make arguments that have been used against me, to argue that I'm not disabled made my skin crawl, and so this is the result. Wade is a character I go to for comfort, so that's why my universe looks a little different from canon. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, hit me up at disabledtwili.tumblr.com


End file.
